


Passion Play

by outofnothing



Category: Justice League - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Post-Canon, wondertrev, wondertrevweek2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-22 02:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15572205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofnothing/pseuds/outofnothing
Summary: For wondertrevweek2018.1. ww842. Four firsts and one last





	1. Chapter 1

Life goes on.

You fight. Albeit without the conviction you had when you first came. It has been replaced when apprehension. Perhaps also nervousness. Nothing is the same since you left. Since he left.

Years pass quickly. Too quickly for her liking. Time is different in this world and no body has enough of it. Etta, Sameer, and Charlie all wrinkle and shrink until they are memories.

Another war passes. And then another one.

Until finally, there is a brief time of quiet. And a miracle happens.

It’s 1984 and there is more color in the world than ever before. One day you see a color you had not seen in almost seventy years. It is a sky blue freckled with deep navy, like the seas you swan in when you were young.

Had you known you were going to see him again, you would have prepared some sort of welcome. At least, some sort of response to his return. Instead, you are left speechless in his presence. You are not used to being this unsure. You want to touch every inch of him just to make sure it’s real.

He stands there, possibly just as shaken. He takes an unsteady step forward.

Then the rest is a flurry of touching, rushed whispers, breathless confessions. You hold his face delicately in your hands and circle your thumb over the roughness of his cheeks. His smile crinkles around his eyes like you remember.

“Your hair is different,” he says.

You laugh, still locked on his face. He has not aged a day but then again, neither have you.

You take his hand and go to the nearest department store. The look on his face when he enters causes you to break out into laughter again. His fascination stops him every few steps.

“Steve, come on,” you pull on his fingers.

“There’s just so many _things_ here,” he says.

The parallels are ironic and amusing. He tries on a few outfits and is incredibly picky on the one he settles with. You straighten out the jacket over his arms, but admit to yourself that it is just an excuse to touch him again.

“It suits you,” you tell him.

“I guess.” He tugs at the sleeves and turns to look at you. “It’s a little tight.”

“You look fine.”

You step back to admire him again. His shape was especially pleasing. You remember the tenderness of his touch and the roughness of his movements when you last laid with him.

It’s 1984 now. Wars have started and ended. Friends have come and gone. The world burned itself down and raised itself back up. Maybe there would be peace now. You can’t think of that at the moment though. All you can think about is the man standing in front of you. Alive, smiling, real.


	2. 4+1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four firsts and one last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miscounted and was too lazy to correct it.

_**First time she faces death.** _

The beaches were a place of peace. Serenity. But today they bring destruction and blood. The men in gray coats steer their boats straight to her shores and drag their wooden hulls onto the smooth white sand.

 

“Get away from her!” she hears her mother scream. She and the man look up to see the legion of Amazon warriors.

 

“Please tell me they have guns,” the man mutters. Before she gets a chance to ask what he means, sharp explosions from the beach. The man grabs her hand and rushes her to cover. It’s an act of protection, she knows, but from what?

 

The Amazons launch their defense, formation and skill carefully practiced. It was time to execute. As the archers deploy, Diana hears more distant explosions from the beach. It sounds like steel popping in the forge, but more violent. Then, she sees it.

 

Death encased in steel. It travels quickly, quicker than any Amazon.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the man begin to throw himself at her. But the metal is too fast, rushes past her, and penetrates the armor of her sister. Diana feels the weight of the man on top of her. She looks at her sister. She lies limp, hanging from her lasso. Lifeless.

 

Diana stares and time stills. She feels the sharp grains of sand digging into her flesh.

 

**First time she sees a man cry**

 

They leave first thing in the morning. Steve has set aside a room for her in his London apartment. It’s a small space. He admitted to her that he didn’t get to spend too much time here. It’s sparsely decorated and the only things that resemble human inhabitance are some clothes and a framed picture.

 

“Nothing like Paradise Island, I know, but it’s only for a night.”

 

Diana settles in the guest room, no larger than the boat they slept on a few nights before. She strips her coat and unbuttons the top few buttons of her shirt. She sits on the bed but cannot sit still. They would be facing the war in the morning.

 

Diana gets up and investigates the apartment, hoping to find Steve. She hears his voice, muffled, from behind a door. Diana had never been one with manners but as she twists the metal knob, a sudden pang of awareness hits her and she considers going back to her room. She is a guest in another person’s home and here she was poking and prodding around. Her mother would be ashamed.

 

Then, it’s unmistakable. Steve was crying. Diana hovers by the door for a moment before her curiosity takes over. She silently pushes it open and peeks inside.

 

Steve, in his undershirt and dress pants from earlier, is sitting on his bed hunched over. He’s kneading his eyebrows with his knuckles and stifles another sob. In his other hand, a letter.

 

She pushes the door completely open. Steve’s head darts up. His blue eyes are lined with pink, which almost makes them more blue. She is mesmerized.

 

“You’ve got a habit on sneaking up on people.” She doesn’t notice his flustered tone, still fixed on his face. Diana takes a seat next to him. He doesn’t move.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says. She was never good at these things. She takes a closer look at his face, rough and weathered. Bits of stubble texture his chin and cheeks. Yet he cries just like a woman. She thumbs away a tear on his cheek.

 

He takes notice of her touch and straightens. He clears his throat and holds up the letter. “It’s from my mom. I haven’t seen her in over a year.” He sighs deeply and wipes his nose with his forearm.

 

“You miss home.”

 

“Yeah.” Then he collects himself, and runs his hand through his hair. “Oh God, sorry. I mean, you must miss home too. I don’t suppose your mom can send you letters.”

 

“I’m afraid not. But she knows why I came.” Diana dips her head to meet his eyes. Still reddened and swollen, but still beautiful. “Your mother must be very proud of you.”

 

For a second, they forgot about the mission the next day.

  

**_First time she loses her breath_ **

There’s an orange glow all around them, separating their bodies from the black of night. She feels the lapel of his jacket before he shrugs it off.

 

Flashes of skin, careful touches.

 

She is outside her own mind. Any apprehension completely lost to the magnetic air between them. She strips him bare, eager and curious. They giggle like fools when they drop onto the lumpy hostel mattress. Every move he makes causes her to smile that by the time she is on top of him and he is inside her, her face is completely still.

 

The next moments are quiet. An intimate fervor envelops their bodies. Their skin glistens from the firelight. She sighs as they find their rhythm. She looks down at him, hair falling around her face, and presses her lips against his. He wraps his arms around her torso and threads his fingers through her hair. They cannot be closer.

 

She feels heat build in her stomach as her breathing becomes more erratic. He is already whimpering between groans. His fingers tighten around her hips. She pulls away slightly and looks into his eyes, clouded with desperation. Finally, he releases and so does she.

 

She lowers herself onto her elbows and frames his head with her forearms. She presses her forehead against his, slick with sweat. Their breathing starts to slow. He whispers something she doesn’t quite hear. He trails kisses from her cheek to her lips but she is slow to return them.

 

Her mind is foggy but she cannot pinpoint why. All she can think about his the man underneath her and how warm he feels, what his voice sounds like, how his flesh feels. How she would give everything to him and how he would do the same for her.

 

First time her heart truly breaks

 

The pain radiates from inside her rib cage. Inside and all around her all at once she could do nothing but try and force it out with a desperate scream. In the air, she can see the particles of the plane float from the sky.

 

The future she never had just vanished in front of her eyes. The kisses they never got to share. The breakfast they never got to eat. The newspapers they never got to read. The man she never got to grow old with.

 

She wants to grab a fistful of his coat and never let go. She wants him to look at her with those blue eyes and in that way he did the other night. The pain in her ribcage seeps into her bones and courses through her blood.

 

It is done. It is over. She lifts the tank above her head.

 

_**The last time she ever felt alone.** _

 

It’s 1984 and the world is brighter with Steve Trevor in it. She doesn’t try to understand what powers brought him here or why he was chosen to return. Maybe it was a favor owed or debts paid. Either way, this was the last time she would ever feel alone.

 

The last seventy years were toilsome. The world of man was strange and wicked but she navigated by herself. She returned each night to her flat, accomplished, but alone. What a hero she was.

However, tonight she would return to a different home. She opens the door tonight and smells an aroma coming from the kitchen. She hears the sweet sound of his laughter and turns the corner to see him standing there. He tells her to wait for him to wash his hands but she doesn’t care.

She wraps his arms around him in a tight hug. He squeaks but settles into her embrace. She caresses the soft hairs on the back of his neck and presses her lips against his ear. “I love you,” she tells him. She never knew how much she needed to say that until she feels the weight lifted from her shoulders. “I love you,” she says again, fearing that he wouldn’t hear her.

“I made you dinner,” he says. His hands are solid against her back. Real. The rough stubble of his cheeks rubs against her skin. Steve presses a kiss to the side of her head and inhales deeply. She likes to hear him breathe. “You smell nice.”

“So do you.”

Steve’s chest rumbles with chuckle. “Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells.”

He quickly steps back, aghast at his double entendre. She laughs and pulls his lips to hers.

Tonight she would not be alone. She would never be alone again.


End file.
